The story of Thomas Katz
by Be Rose
Summary: Thomas Katz has broken the heart of every girl in the village. When he toys with the wrong girl he gets into serious trouble. He has to learn what he did wrong and complete what he thinks is an impossible task. Only then can the spell be broken that turned him into Thomas the cat. Based on Charles Perrault's The Master Cat or Puss-in-boots with some extras and twists.
1. Chapter 1: Thomas Katz

**CHAPTER1 – Thomas Katz**

_I was born in a castle to the Count and his wife … and then I was not. I grew up in the castle and the village around it … and then I hadn't. But all this sounds confusing. Perhaps I should begin where my story truly begins, on the day I was threatened, the day Mrs Genova confronted me._

ooOOoo

"Thomas Katz, you're no better than a rutting tomcat," Mrs Genova said.

Mrs Genova of the Waldhof, a peasant. Didn't she know who I was?

"You can't say that about me. I'm Thomas von Katzenelnbogen."

"Don't make me laugh. You're the latest in a long line of rogues and your grandfather was the worst. Seduced and married a widow von Katzenelnbogen and took on the name of her first husband. At least your father was man enough to change it to Katz."

"Whatever the name, madam, my father is still the magistrate of this village. You can do nothing to me."

"Just don't try my patience anymore, Thomas Katz. Don't you dare make another girl cry."

I laughed as I walked away. What did I care about her threats? She couldn't hurt me. She was as powerless as the families of those silly girls. A smile, a friendly word, a cheap gift and they thought my undying love was theirs. Utter idiots. They were all so gullible. They believed any romantic rubbish I told them. Every girl imagined she was the one, the girl who would inspire true love in me. "Oh, your hair is soft like silk," they would coo. Or it would be 'like black velvet'. They claimed they would 'drown in those deep green seas' with which they meant my eyes. Fools, the lot of them.

It riled me though that that harridan had been right about my grandfather. As the youngest son of an unimportant knight he'd had no prospects. Then he'd gotten a young widow in trouble and had been made to marry her. I thought it had been clever of him to take the name of her first husband, a Count von Katzenelnbogen. Who cared we weren't even a twig on that illustrious tree. My uncles would have kept the name, I'm sure, but grandfather's oldest son had spent most of his time in seedy bars, drinking and fighting. In the end he had been killed in a bar brawl. And his second son, a ladies man like his father, had fared no better. He had preferred married woman, thinking them less of a hassle; no irate fathers. Instead an infuriated husband had put an end to his life. That's how my father, the youngest son, became the heir. Not a month after grandfather's death father changed our name to Katz. Not even 'von Katz', just plain 'Katz', though he was still the Count. My older brother, who had inherited the boring, upright character of father, approved the change. My opinion was not asked.

ooOOoo

Mrs Genova's threats didn't leave a lasting impression. If the girls were so willing, why would I resist?

Then one day I met Fiorella. I was walking home from the village when I saw her and I introduced myself.

"Good afternoon. My name is Thomas Katz. I don't believe I've seen you here before. Are you new to the village?"

"Yes," she whispered, her eyes cast down.

"Let me wish you a warm welcome in the name of my father, the Count and magistrate of the village."

I took her hand to kiss it but she quickly withdrew it and in the same, barely audible voice, said, "Thank you."

She still hadn't looked up.

"I won't bite, you know," I told her as I tried to lift her head.

She somehow managed to wriggle out of my grasp and with a whispered, "I have to go," she was off.

I didn't know where she lived and quite frankly I had no intention to find out. There were plenty of other girls in the village. When I saw her again I knew I wanted her. Why? Perhaps because it was summer and she looked like summer incarnate with the sun sparkling off her golden hair.

"Hello again," I said. "You've been hiding."

She didn't answer but just stared at me with her cornflower blue eyes. She had a shy little smile, so innocent and pure. I took a step closer to her and she stepped backward. Somebody had obviously warned her against me. I wanted her.

For the first time I actively wooed a girl. It wasn't too difficult. Girls liked the way I looked and a few smiles and friendly words convinced them I was not as bad as they had been told. With Fiorella it was childishly easy probably because she was so childishly innocent.

Next time I saw her I was walking in the woods. Before she noticed me I had picked some flowers. I went up to her and saw fear clouding over the suns in her eyes. She looked at me as if I was the Big Bad Wolf.

"Some forest flowers for the prettiest flower in the forest," I said bowing deeply and offering her the flowers. She blushed.

I walked next to her, not touching her, not saying anything. When we reached the village she said she was going to visit a friend. I accompanied her to her friend's house, wished her a pleasant day, bowed again and left.

The next day she was walking in the forest again. I met her in exactly the same place as the day before. Just like the day before I walked quietly next to her and when she said she needed to do some shopping at the haberdashery shop I left her again at her destination. The third day we walked closer together. Occasionally our hands accidentally touched and she would step away from me, only to come closer again near enough immediately. I had to leave though. My parents expected me to attend one of their boring dinner parties.

"I have to go now, uh …" I laughed. "I don't even know your name yet."

She looked up at me. In the shadow of the forest her eyes were darker, like cooling pools on a hot day.

"Fiorella, my name is Fiorella," she said and I knew I had won.

"Fiorella. I have to go my little flower. I'm expected at home. Can I meet you again tomorrow?"

She nodded.

"Here in the forest again?"

She nodded again. I wished her a good evening, bowed and left.

Next day I took her hand in mine and she didn't withdraw it. We went walking, hand in hand like children, day after day. We ran across the fields and picked bunches of flowers. Then the harvest festivals began and we danced at the village dances. All that time I never even got a kiss. In the end I got fed up with waiting. There was only so much innocence I could take. I went to the girl who was always ready for me… or anyone else for that matter. I called her Diane, after the virgin goddess just for laughs. I made sure Fiorella saw us together.

"I thought you loved me," she said in a trembling voice.

My answer was deliberately cruel. "I might have done, but not anymore."

She ran away, crying no doubt. Another little fool.

_This was how I acted then, what I thought then, exactly as it happened, no embellishments. I was not a likable rogue, I was an arrogant bastard. _

ooOOoo

A week after that last meeting with Fiorella, I met Mrs Genova in the wood behind her farm. When she saw me she came storming towards me.

"Finally I've got you, Thomas Katz. I warned you not to hurt any girl's feelings again."

"I've never taken anything they weren't willing to give, Mrs Genova."

That is true. Unlike my grandfather and my uncle, I have never forced myself on a girl. It sounded distasteful to me. Besides there was always one that was willing.

"You broke Fiorella's heart, stringing her along, giving flowers, whispering vows of love in her ear. Then you dumped her in the cruellest fashion. She cries all the time and barely eats."

"What's it to you if one of the village chicks has taken my words too seriously? She'll recover. Quite soon if another man smiles at her."

"Fiorella is my daughter," Mrs Genova said. Her voice sounded different. It felt as if a cold finger was scraping along my spine.

"I … I didn't know that."

"**THOMAS KATZ, YOU WILL NEVER BREAK ANOTHER HEART AGAIN!"**

The voice was deep, dark, threatening. The wood suddenly became dim and gloomy as if it were a starless night instead of the middle of the day. There was no wind but Mrs Genova's cloak was billowing behind her as if she were standing in the middle of a storm. She looked like an avenging angel, an angel of death. Her eyes had turned completely black with a piercing light in the centre. In her hand she held a stiletto with a dull black blade. Silver light flashed along its edge when she put the point over my heart.

Fear grabbed me, I went down on my knees, begging, "Please, please, I didn't mean to. Please don't kill me."

"**I GAVE YOU FAIR WARNING. TOO LATE NOW. I CALLED YOU A RUTTING CAT AND THAT'S WHAT YOU WILL BE. THOMAS KATZ, YOU WILL BE THOMAS, THE CAT. THE MEMORY OF YOU WILL BE ERASED FROM EVERYONE'S MIND. NOBODY WILL MISS YOU."**

The point of the thin dagger still touched me. The silver light started to envelop my body. Even though the witch – for she was a witch – even though she didn't move the blade I felt a sharp pain piercing me. Black hairs started to sprout on my arms, my legs, my face, my body. My fine moustache, so loved by the girls, grew to long black whiskers. My hands and feet curled up to paws. Then my whole body contracted. I was hanging suspended in mid-air. My clothes fell from my body and I dropped down on top of them.

"**THIS IS MY CURSE ON YOU: YOU WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT YOU WERE ONCE A MAN. YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO SPEAK UNTIL YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU HAVE DONE. THEN YOU CAN START TO REDEEM YOURSELF. BUT ONLY THROUGH GREAT PAIN CAN YOU BECOME THOMAS KATZ AGAIN."**

"Please tell me what I have to do," I wanted to say. But no words came from my mouth only a cat's mewling.

I looked up at the woman, so much taller than me now. The fearful fury had gone. She was just Mrs Genova again and she seemed to have understood what I wanted to say.

"When you have unselfishly helped thousand people this dagger will find its way to you. Look at it and remember it."

She held the stiletto in front of me. I knew I would see it in my dreams for the rest of my life. I knew I would recognise it anywhere. The blade made of a dull black stone-like material, the metal handle with the strange markings on it and the pommel with the stone that looked like a cat's eye.

She continued, "You'll have to find a girl who loves you and is willing to pierce your heart with it. Believe me; it's going to hurt like nothing you've ever felt. Then and only then will the curse be broken. Go and take this chance I'm giving you."

ooOOoo

I didn't know what to do. I tried to walk upright but kept falling back on all fours. Where could I go to? Through the forest? No, too dangerous. To the village? Nobody would recognise me. Home? Yes, home, somebody there would know me. l would run to my room, let them know I had been cursed. I would denounce the witch. I ran home, got in through the kitchen door that was open.

The cook and the kitchen staff gasped then screamed, "There's a cat in the kitchen. Get it out, get it out."

They chased me all through the kitchen, but I escaped and ran up the servant's stairs to my room. I hoped that door too would be open so I could hide from the kitchen staff who were still pursuing me. I was in luck! I ran through into my room and skidded to a halt. My room was full of flowers. A girl I had never seen before was sitting at my desk. No, not **my** desk. This was too delicate with its turned legs and swirling carvings. How could this be? Where were my things? I'd only been here an hour ago … less than that.

I heard the clamour of my pursuers coming up the stairs. The girl too had heard the unusual noise and turned around. She saw me and called me.

"Puss, puss, come puss."

"Puss puss, I'm not puss puss. This is my room, get out," I shouted but of course all she heard was "Meow, meow, meow."

Then the girl came towards me. I didn't want to be picked up, so I ran out of the room, in the middle of a group of people who were wondering what the unusual din meant. I was chased, kicks were aimed at me, things were thrown at me.

People yelled, "Stop him, catch him."

The girl was shouting, "Don't hurt him."

I was hissing and spitting. Luckily I reached the main staircase and ran downstairs again, dodging servants, footmen and maids. I ran along the corridor, took a sliding turn into another one, zigzagged around some people. An open door ahead of me; I ran and found myself in the portrait gallery. Then I saw what the witch had meant. The large painting of our family had changed. I had been on it, a little boy standing proudly next to his father, but not anymore. I was no longer in it as the youngest child. Instead my mother was holding a little baby girl. I had truly been erased from existence.

I stood there frozen, unable to take my eyes off the picture, as if I expected it to change back to what it used to be. The door creaked. Somebody had come in. I didn't look.

"Come, puss, come. I won't hurt you. Come to me."

It was the pleading voice of the young girl who'd been in my room.

"It may be diseased. Don't touch it, Thomassina."

That was my mother's voice. As I turned towards her I suddenly realised what she had called the girl. Thomassina! Instead of me there was a younger girl and they had called her Thomassina.

The door opened again and two footmen came into the gallery. Behind me I heard the door at the other end of the room open. I was trapped. Then I saw that one of the windows wasn't closed properly, it should have been but it wasn't. I took my only chance at escape and jumped on the windowsill and pushed against the window with my front paws. It was open! I jumped out and ran towards the village.

Here was further proof that I had never existed. Two girls who'd had a child of me and had been married off to two willing village boys, no longer had little dark-haired girls. Instead they had little boys, the spitting image of their dependable husbands.

The witch was there too and beckoned me. She walked towards the graveyard and our family's tomb. I followed her and looked at the thing she pointed at. Underneath the names of my grandparents and their two sons was written "_Thomas Katz, beloved son of George Katz and his wife Elena_" with the date of my birth and a second date, merely five days later.

I had been eradicated from history just as Mrs Genova had said. All my memories were of events that had now never happened. My disappearance would not be noticed. The girls who had fancied me would not miss me. Nobody would remember me except perhaps my mother who might wonder, very occasionally, what the baby that had died would have looked like.

How could I live like this? What could I do? I couldn't think anymore. Fear and panic took over and I did what any animal would do. I ran.

ooOOoo

* * *

**Author's Note: Katzenelnbogen (cat's elbows) is the name of a castle and a village in Germany. The counts of Katzenelnbogen had a second castle Neukatzenelnbogen (new cat's elbows) near the Loreley rock on the river Rhine. This is now known as Burg Katz.**


	2. Chapter 2: Thomas the cat

**Author's Note: Thanks to Jimli and RenegadeArtist for following this story and to Jimli for the review.**

* * *

**CHAPTER 2 – Thomas the cat**

I ran away. As the human part of my mind regained control I realised I could and would not live like this. As fast as my paws could carry me I ran into the forest , hoping one of the wild animals that were rumoured to live there would eat me. I went left, right, turned everywhere, went to the darkest parts of the forest and didn't see a single wild animal, unless you count a few scared rabbits.

My next thought was that I would just starve myself rather than live in this shape. I stopped eating and drinking. Unfortunately it was a hot day. Soon I became thirsty. I did my best to ignore it but how can anyone ignore thirst when the whole world is silent except for the babbling of a little brook. Again I ran all over the place but it seemed as if the blasted forest had more water than trees in it. Everywhere I turned I either heard or saw water. In the end I gave in and drank. Deep draughts of cooling water, wonderful.

Starving myself didn't work much better. Of course I was useless at catching prey. And even if I had managed it, I didn't fancy eating raw meat, not then, not yet. Unfortunately a cat needs meat. I tried to live of berries and grass without success. When I saw my reflection in a stream I realised this wasn't going to work. Looking back at me was a thin, mangy, rough-looking cat with matted fur. There was only one thing I could do if I wanted to live: return to the village, to the Waldhof and Mrs Genova. She had said that I wasn't cursed for eternity; that there was a way to reverse this. But if I died it could never be reversed; surely this meant she would help me. Full of hope I ran to the Waldhof.

In the end I was scared just to go in. I slunk in through a hole in the fence, along the outbuildings and into Mrs Genova's house through the backdoor. And there she sat, in an easy chair, staring at the door as if she'd just been waiting for me to turn up.

"You look pretty dreadful, Mr. Katz;" she said.

I meowed, "Please, help me!"

"Not so high and mighty now, are you? I'll help you, if you'll help me. You keep the rats and mice away and I'll be a good mistress to you. Do we have an agreement?"

I was thinking "I don't know how to catch a mouse, even less a rat. Should I inform Mrs Genova of this?"

Then, as if she had read my mind, she said, "You'll have to learn to catch the vermin. It'll be easier in time. But I won't allow you to drag your heels on this. So I ask you again: do we have an agreement."

"Yes, we have an agreement," I meowed. "I've no other option," I thought.

"No, you haven't got another option," she answered to my thoughts.

I didn't believe it, she understood my meowing; she read my thoughts. I would have no privacy around the woman.

"Don't worry," she answered the unspoken question, "I won't read your thoughts too much. Now eat and rest and tomorrow you can start working."

A flick of her hand and my fur was cleaned of mud, burs, tangles and anything else that was caught in it. Another flick made a bowl of food and a soft pillow appear. I didn't ask questions any more. I had my first decent meal in days and then slept until the following morning.

ooOOoo

Thus I began my life as Mrs Genova's cat. It took me some time before I caught my first mouse but eventually I did. I had two advantages over other cats. I still had the mind of a man and could outwit the vermin and I had more time to learn because I didn't age like other cats. This meant that in due time I was the best, most successful vermin catcher in the village and I learned to extend my hunting talent to fish, fowl and rabbits. I often brought something home for Mrs Genova and she appreciated it greatly.

Learning to catch mice was easy compared to walking on my hind legs. I took me a long time and I can still remember de sense of achievement I felt when I managed to stand for more than a few seconds. Eventually I could spend a whole day walking like a man instead of a cat and I felt a tiny bit more like Thomas Katz again.

I don't know how long I'd been working for Mrs Genova when she told me Fiorella was going to be married. There would be a great feast at the Waldhof. The whole village had been invited. I was glad she'd told me. This way I could avoid everyone. Still I was curious about some of the girls, what they looked like now, never having met me.

When the day of the wedding arrived I went to the top of the barn and stayed there. It was a great spot from which I could see everything without being noticed. Fiorella of course was a lovely bride and there were other girls I recognised. They had boyfriends or husbands and some had children; some were still waiting for that first love, giggling and whispering together, looking at the available bachelors.

The girl that surprised me most though was Diane – or Lisa as her real name was. Of course she had a man by her side but her face was different. It didn't have that hard look about it. She smiled when she congratulated Fiorella and her eyes sparkled. Now, I'd often seen her smile but never had that smile reached her eyes. Suddenly and for the first time I realised, that might have been my doing. I had seduced her, left her, gone back to her when she was seeing someone and as soon as she had dropped the guy, I was trying my charms on another girl. I had used her. Every time I wanted to get rid of a girl or get over a girl. I had made her a prey for every horny man in the village. She, more than any other girl, showed me what kind of rake I had been and what sorrow I had caused.

Later I asked Mrs Genova about Diane/Lisa and she told me what I had guessed all along. Without me Lisa had become a happy young woman. The man I'd seen her with was her husband. I didn't tell Mrs Genova about my thoughts but then again, she probably knew them anyway.

Life at the Waldhof went along at an easy pace. Days went by, seasons changed, year followed year but I didn't feel it except that I felt more and more like a cat, albeit one even more intelligent than the average moggy. Whenever I said something I still meowed, but that didn't matter as Mrs Genova understood me anyway.

The day Fiorella appeared unexpectedly with a ten year old boy who turned out to be her son, I realised how much time had passed. Then I started to notice changes in Mrs Genova, wrinkles, morning stiffness, grey hairs among the silvery blonde. I heard her talk in a creaking voice to neighbours who came to ask how she was. She became ill and Fiorella came to look after her mother, accompanied by a young girl, her daughter. Mrs Genova recovered but Fiorella was not happy that her mother was living all alone, with nothing but a cat as company.

"I'll discuss it with Roger and we'll come to live here with you," Fiorella insisted.

"There's no need for that, Fiorella, I'll be fine," answered Mrs Genova.

She might have saved her breath; Fiorella was determined to look after her mother. She never did though. The day before Fiorella and her family were due to arrive I found the body of Mrs Genova. She was lying dead in bed. I presumed she had died suddenly in the night.

"Mrs Genova, what am I going to do now," I cried out.

"Come with me for a bit, of course," I heard the voice of Mrs Genova behind me.

I turned around so fast that I fell over – quite embarrassing for a cat. There stood Mrs Genova ready to travel, some necessaries in a capacious bag and a warm cloak wrapped around her body.

"What? How?" I stammered looking from the dead body in the bed to the live woman.

"That is nothing but a dead shape, dirt made into a body. It will be buried and Mrs Genova will be mourned. I had wished to stay a bit longer, perhaps see my granddaughter married but that is the burden I have to bear. Sooner or later there comes a time for me to move on. Come Thomas, we're going."

She cast one last look around her home and then we went into the forest.

ooOOoo

I didn't quite understand what this charade was about but Mrs Genova explained it to me. We'd gone deep into the forest by then and were sitting down for a rest.

Mrs Genova sighed, "I expect the body has been found by now. My poor Fiorella, my poor family."

"Why do you do it if it upsets you so much?" I asked. "You could have stayed there with Fiorella and her family for a very long time."

"Getting away would have become too difficult with them staying at the Waldhof. Now I could just sneak out, but with a house full of people, carefully watching if granny is all right, that would have become near enough impossible. And before you ask, no, Fiorella doesn't know that I'm a witch and she isn't one. She'll age naturally but I don't."

I dared to say, "You don't look that young anymore, you know."

"No," she answered, "and I've had enough of being old."

Then she got up and stretched. Instead of the old lady with the stooped back there stood a Mrs Genova like I'd never seen before. She was young, tall – she'd always been tall until she'd started stooping, – thinner than she had been but not skinny. Grey hair and wrinkles had all gone; silver blond hair framed a beautiful face and clear blue eyes smiled at me.

"There, that's better already," Mrs Genova said. "Don't look so stunned, Thomas. I'm a witch, I'm magic, I don't age, I just pretend I do. That's why I have to leave my family and start again somewhere else."

"How … how many families have you left like this?"

"Not that many. Mostly I become a lonely old spinster but sometimes I find somebody like Fiorella's father. I get married, have children, slowly age myself and eventually leave."

"And your family find that … thing in the bed."

"To them it's not a thing. They bury me, mourn me and then move on, just as it should be. I'm the one who's left wondering how they are, if they're doing well. There are people out there, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and I wouldn't even recognise them if I saw them. That's the price I pay for what I am."

I saw tears in her eyes and apologised.

"I didn't mean to upset you, Mrs Genova."

"I know, Thomas, I'll be fine in a moment."

I curled up at her feet and slept until she shook me awake.

"Let's go. I'm fine now," she said.

We got up and continued our journey.

ooOOoo


	3. Chapter 3: In search of a new home

**Author's Note: Thank you to ella plain and simple for following and reviewing, and to Jimli, Yoffi, and MertleYuts for the reviews.**

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**CHAPTER3 – In search of a new home**

On we went through the forest. It was far larger than I'd ever thought possible. After a couple of days we arrived at some sort of road that crossed our path. It was a brick road that had seen better days. Tree roots had pushed some of the bricks upwards. Others had crumbled to dust and plants had shot up where they had been. In other parts hollows had formed that were now filled with water.

"We'll rest here, before we go on," said Mrs Genova.

We sat down and had a bite to eat, the last of the food we had brought with us. We didn't talk, just enjoyed the quiet of the forest. I had just started to wonder where this strange road went to when Mrs Genova got up.

"Time to decide on the new me now," she said. "I think I'll go for ginger this time. A bit dangerous, why not."

Then her whole body changed. She became slightly smaller but more voluptuous; ginger ringlets surrounded a freckled face with mischievous green eyes. She looked a lot more fun like this, not so imposing.

"I see you like the change," Mrs Genova laughed. "Now for a name. Genova just doesn't suit this body. … I think I'll go for … Zora. Yes, I like that. From now on I'm Miss Zora."

I just sat there, staring at this new woman in front of me. How I wished I were a man again. Luckily my thoughts hadn't upset Mrs Genova … sorry, Miss Zora. Then, to my dismay, she talked about parting.

"This is where we say goodbye, Thomas. From now on you have to make your own way. You have to try and break the spell and it's not going to happen when you're with me."

I panicked.

"Mrs .. Miss Zora, please, let me go with you. People are not nice to cats. They'll kick me and chase me and who knows what else. I'll starve."

"Don't be silly, Thomas. You're the best mouser I've ever seen, not to mention the best hunter."

"What if I forget I'm really a man? You helped me remember, but without you and hunting mice for food … I will become just a cat, and not Thomas Katz."

"Whenever it becomes necessary you'll remember who you really are. I won't let you forget the task I set you."

"Perhaps I could stay a bit longer, to get used to the idea?"

"Stop it Thomas! You can't come with me. I'm going to the left here, and your future lies to the right. Go, Thomas; don't be afraid. You can make it a bright future."

I went. I had no choice. If I wanted my last memory of her to be of a happy, pretty girl rather than a shrieking fury I had to leave.

"Goodbye, Mrs Genova." I used the old name one more time. "You gave me a harsh punishment, but I'm starting to understand why you did it. And probably this was the only way to teach me."

She hunkered down in front of me and stroked me for the first and last time. I put my paws on her shoulders and rubbed my nose against hers.

"Goodbye, Miss Zora. I hope your future is as bright as the one you see for me."

"Goodbye, Thomas."

Her voice trembled. I too felt a lump in my throat. Best thing to do was go so I started following the crooked brick road.

I hadn't gone too far when I heard her shout, "Don't forget the dagger! It'll find its way to you!"

I turned round one more time, stood on my hind paws and waved my front paw at her. Then I started running, hoping to be out of the forest by nightfall.

ooOOoo

I didn't make it in one day. When it became too dark to run or even walk, I stopped and spent the night high up a tree. At the first glimmer of light I was on the road again, running as fast as I could. I didn't even try to catch something to eat. I wanted to be away from all those trees, into the light.

Eventually I saw the end of the forest. The light seemed to beckon me. It was further away than I thought because the sun had started to disappear behind the horizon when I reached the edge of the forest. There in front of me was a landscape as flat as a pancake. Hardly anything was left of the road I had been following except a dirt track. In the distance I saw a few farms, sparsely scattered along a road. I needed a place for the night and made my way to the nearest shed. It was a ramshackle building but it was warm and dry and there were mice. I could hear them rustling in the straw. Disgusted? Why? I was a cat after all. Mrs Genova had been thorough. So I had memories of being a man; that didn't make me any less a cat. And cats eat mice, simple as that.

I spent a few days in the shed, even thought of staying there. For a cat it was an ideal home. But then I kept having the same dream over and over again. Every night Mrs Genova appeared to me, telling me I had to help thousand people before I could ever have a chance to break the spell. Every night I saw her again as Miss Zora, telling me to remember the dagger, to remember I was a man. So I moved on. I crossed the country, sleeping anywhere I could, eating anything I caught and doing my best not to get kicked too often. That last bit wasn't too difficult, certainly a lot easier than I had thought. People don't notice cats unless they come too close to food.

ooOOoo

My wanderings took me to many different villages and towns. I tended to avoid busy streets and in the quiet places I often saw young couples walking. I observed them and noticed the feelings that these young people had for each other. I began to realise just how different they were from what I had felt for the girls I'd had. I especially compared the actions of the young men to what mine had been. They were not concentrating on their personal gratification and pleasure. They wanted to protect their girls, cherish them. Even when the feeling didn't last it was still different. There was no casual rejection. These boys didn't think, "I've had my fun and now I'm off." There was hurt, because the dream had died, because the feelings had not been strong enough, for whatever reason, it was a tearing apart of two hearts.

Of course there were others as well; men like I had been. Men who just used girls for a bit of pleasure. I saw them eyeing up other girls while whispering sweet nothings to the girl in their arms. And I saw these girls after they'd been dumped. At best they were heartbroken and in tears; at worst their whole life was in tatters. More and more I realised how right Mrs Genova had been in not only punishing me but eradicating me from existence. In the end I was pleased she had made sure that no girl had ever suffered because of me.

The worst scoundrel I met reminded me all too much of the Thomas Katz I had been. It was a hot day and I'd clambered in a tree to sleep in the shade of its leaves. A young couple arrived and sat under the tree. It started off very sweetly. They were holding hands and giving each other an innocent kiss.

"Oh, Annie, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen." the man said.

Then he kissed her more passionately and caressed her.

"Do you love me, Annie?" he asked.

"Yes, George, I love you so much," Annie answered.

George became more passionate. It was clear what he wanted even to Annie. She stopped him.

"No, George. We're not married. We're not even engaged yet."

Then George did something I had never, ever done. He was using Annie's emotions against her.

"You say you love me but you don't, not really," he sulked.

"But I do, George. I love you so much it hurts."

"Lies! If you loved me you wouldn't push me away."

He took her in his arms again and whispered, "Come on, Annie. Show me that you love me. Don't deny me."

I could hear Annie was close to tears when she said, "I would not deny you if you were my fiancé, George, but you haven't asked me. You've never even said you love me."

"I'm not a man for big words, Annie, you know that," he said and pulled her close again. "Come on, Annie. Show me how much you love me."

He'd started to open the buttons on her blouse and Annie was pushing his hands away and trying to get up. George was stronger and held her down, rolling on top of Annie. I'd seen and heard more than I could stand and, claws out, I jumped on top of George, scratching and biting where I could. He got up to shake me off his back but I hung on with all my strength. Annie was clever enough to get up and run away. I kept George busy until she was out of sight, then I ran the opposite direction. He followed for a bit but I was too fast for him. I wished with all my heart he would find a Mrs Genova on his road one day, pond scum that he was.

ooOOoo

On I went, further and further away from the place that once was my home, always on the move.

Occasionally I stayed a bit longer in one place. Mostly because a child – generally a girl – decided I was going to be a pet. I didn't mind. It meant food and shelter for a time, long or short. It all depended on how soon the parents found out about me and chased me away telling the child not to play with stray cats for they carried diseases. I could actually understand their concern. I'd seen some rough felines on my journey. I didn't understand how they could mistake me, Thomas Katz, for such a specimen; that is until I saw what I looked like.

I had arrived at a village on market day. While crossing the square I passed the booth of a carpenter who was trying to sell his goods, one of which was a tall mirror. I just caught my reflection as I passed. No longer was I a sleek, well-fed cat. My often poor diet had taken the shine of my coat and I looked rather thin as well. Here and there I had a healing wound from some fight I'd been in, or from some hurried escape. I looked as bad as the worst of strays. Clearly it was high time I found myself a home again.

Nobody in the market town needed a cat though, so on I went. The weather started to turn colder. Autumn was approaching. This was by no means my first autumn on the road but certainly the wettest I could remember. Not that I could recall exactly how many seasons or years had come and gone since I had said goodbye to Mrs Genova. Cats don't carry timepieces or calendars.

Even during this generally wet time there came a particularly wet spell. In all my years I had never seen so much rain. The entire day I hadn't seen a house, barn, shed or anything that could provide shelter. I was soaked to the skin, mud was packed around my paws and I was hungry – even the prey stayed in warm, cosy burrows and who could blame them. The rain came down so hard I could hardly see a thing. The path was slowly turning into a stream and walking became difficult. Suddenly a dark mass loomed up in front of me. A farm, a large barn, finally I would find some shelter. The rain started to ease a bit too, so I could see that a small window to the hayloft was left open. I jumped from a wagon to the henhouse, to a lean-to, to the wall of the barn; then clawed my way up to the window and hopped inside. It was dry and warm and smelt lovely of straw – like concentrated summer. It was also occupied by five farm cats who didn't want to share. They started growling, spitting, yowling, caterwauling. This was going to be a fight, something I didn't fancy. In the end it didn't come to that. The noise must have woken up the farmer because suddenly the barn door was opened and a man's voice called out.

"What in heaven's name is this racket about?"

I jumped down from the hayloft, planning to escape through the open door. When the farmer saw me he shouted to someone in the farmhouse.

"Mabel, let the dog out and bring me my gun. I think I've found our chicken thief."

I didn't wait for his order to be obeyed. With his back still turned I scurried out and ran towards the road. Soon I heard barking behind me and the shout, "Get him, Max."

Running along the lane from the farm I could hear the dog bounding behind me, gaining on me no doubt. I didn't look back, but ran full tilt to the tree lined main road. The dog's barking became louder and louder as he gained on me. A last effort and I reached the road, jumped onto the nearest tree trunk and scrambled as near the top as I could get. The dog stood with his front paws on the tree and barked up at me, then settled down to wait for its master.

I intended to be long gone by the time the farmer arrived. I didn't fancy being shot at. Although the leaves had only just started to fall, and I was hidden from view, I was not going to chance it. Carefully I crawled along the branch I was on, as far as I could without breaking it. I decided I could jump the distance to the next tree. I would land gracefully on a branch of the other tree and the dog wouldn't even know I was gone. Wrong! I jumped and slipped of the branch I was aiming for, crashed through the tree and just managed the get my claws in one of the lower branches. I was hanging on with all my might shaking with fear. The dog of course had heard it and was just thinking of transferring its interest to the second tree, the one I'd jumped into, when the farmer arrived.

"Good dog, Max," he said. "We'll soon have our chicken thief."

Then he shot into the first tree, and again, and again.

Lucky for me Max hadn't moved yet and the farmer didn't look too closely. After firing his tree shots he waited to see if anything would fall down.

"Sorry, Maxi, he's not falling," he said after a while. "The crows will have to eat him."

The farmer then walked back to his house. The dog had stayed looking up at me.

"Shoo, go home, Max," I said but Max didn't move.

Then I heard the farmer call his dog, "Come, Max." and again fainter, "Max, come on boy."

Finally the dog followed its master and all was silent except for the falling rain.

It was relatively dry up in the tree among the leaves but I wanted to be as far away from that farm as possible. I jumped down to the road and started running again and didn't stop until the morning came. I crossed the road and wriggled underneath some shrubs that were growing at the foot of a nearby hillock. I was cold, wet and hungry but most of all I was totally exhausted. I fell asleep immediately.

ooOOoo

I don't know how long I had slept but I awoke to a bright day. I crawled from underneath the bush. The rain had stopped, the sun was shining and everything was dry. Then I heard what had woken me – somebody was shouting

"Go! Away with you! Leave that alone!"

It came from the other side of the hillock. I decided to have a look and climbed to the other side. There was a building that might have been a mill once but was now just a ruin. Then I saw him, a young man, surrounded by rats, trying to hit them with a broom – and succeeding more often than not. There were too many rats, though. I decided to help and went for the biggest rat. I killed it instantly and suddenly the vermin turned towards the new danger. I didn't stop to think about the odds and bit the neck of the most audacious beast. It was a terrible biting, scratching, turning, whirling; dust flew up around the rats and me. Meanwhile the young man kept hitting at any rat that escaped the fight. Between us we soon bested them and the sorry survivors ran away. We both stood there, panting.

"Thanks for that, Cat. Are you hurt?"

I shook my head.

"Hmmm. Would you like some food, a place to rest?"

I nodded twice.

"Cat, you are a strange one. You understand what I say. Do you think they'll stay away?"

They might but I doubted it. I just didn't know how to tell him.

"You don't think so, do you? Neither do I."

Then after a short pause he added, "Would you mind staying here for a bit? As long as you like or at least until the vermin stops coming."

I nodded again. That's how I became the cat of Jack, the young miller.

My new master sat down in front of the mill and offered me some of his food. He was slim and muscular as if he was used to hard work, but judging by the look of his clothes and the paltry amount of food he had, he was clearly down on his luck. He was staring in the distance, sighing.

"That bad, huh, I know the feeling," I said.

He looked around.

"Who's there?"

I couldn't believe it. He had heard me _**talk**_.

"You understand what I'm saying?"

He stood up.

"Who's there? Come out, immediately."

"Down here, friend, it's me speaking."

"Don't play games with me, Mr Ventriloquist. I know you're there. If you don't come out immediately you'd better make sure I can't catch you."

Finally somebody understood me and he didn't realise I could talk.

"For heaven's sake. I'm here at your feet. My name is Thomas Katz and I'm a talking cat. Now sit down and stop acting like a fool."

He looked at me, not sure whether to believe his ears or not. Looked around again to see if there was any sign of another human being but of course saw nothing and nobody.

"Yes, it's me talking. No, you're not dreaming. Please, sit down. I'm getting a stiff neck from looking up at you."

He sat down next to me and sighed again.

"You seem to have troubles. Anything I can do to help?"

"I need money, quite a bit and fast. You see this ruin behind me? That's my mill, my only property and I need to repair it."

"How did you get conned into buying it? Didn't you see the state it was in?"

He sighed again.

"I didn't buy it. It's what's left of my inheritance and I can't prove I've been cheated by my guardian."

He fell silent again and I became impatient.

"So? … Tell!"

He sighed again. Then he told me his story.

ooOOoo


	4. Chapter 4: Jack's Story

**Author's Note: To MertleYuts, Jimli and ella plain and simple: Thank you for the review. And thank you to Her Grace the Duchess for favoriting.  
**

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**CHAPTER4 – Jack's story**

I was only a child when I was orphaned. My father had left me and my inheritance in the care of his brother whom he trusted. Unfortunately the lure of the money proved too big for my uncle. He took it all for himself. But I have learned that only recently.

I lived in my uncle's house with my nanny until I was deemed too old to need her. I was very lonely after she went until I could go to the local school. When I was twelve my uncle told me it was time for me to learn a trade.

"What do you mean?" I asked him. "You'll be teaching me to run my father's business, won't you?"

"I'm sorry to say, Jack, but your father made some bad decisions. Probably his illness affected his thinking. Whatever the cause, the result is that there is no business. No money whatsoever."

I had no reason to doubt him. My uncle was the only family I had and I believed him to be my friend. But what he said meant that suddenly my whole future had changed.

"What am I to do?" I asked him.

"I have arranged for an apprenticeship for you with an acquaintance of mine. Mr Gashford, owner of the Gashford Mill will teach you to become a miller and I'll provide a mill for you."

Mr Gashford was the best miller in the area and owned the most productive mill. An apprenticeship with him was very sought after. That's why I was sure that my uncle and guardian had done his very best for me.

The first day of my apprenticeship I was full of hope and expectations. I had arrived at Gashford's Mill in plenty of time. There were three other boys besides me who started their training that day, David, Joshua and Terrence. Mr Gashford led us to a shared bedroom but when I wanted to enter he stopped me.

"You sleep in the mill," he told me. "When you have proved your worth you can sleep in the bedroom with the other boys."

I didn't understand this. Had the other boys proved their worth already? Did they have some experience I didn't have? I daren't ask so I put my belongings in the mill as I was told. My 'room' was a small partition, just big enough for a sack of straw for a matrass and a crate set on its side for a bedside table.

My life as apprentice at Gashford's Mill wasn't easy. Whatever I did, however hard I tried, nothing was ever good enough. If I did something wrong I was punished harder than the other boys and often I was sent to bed without food. I didn't give up though. I enjoyed the work; I wanted to be good at it; better than Mr Gashford even. Unfortunately my fellow apprentices had noticed Mr Gashford's treatment of me. They took advantage of the fact that he didn't like me. They would blame me if something had gone wrong; they would claim my work as theirs; they would even hide things and claim I must have stolen them. They were always believed. I confronted Mr Gashford about it one day.

"Mr Gashford, why do you always believe what they say about me? Why do you never believe me? I'm not a liar and neither am I a thief. Please, tell me what I have done that you should think this."

"Don't play the innocent with me," was his answer. "You uncle has told me what kind of fellow you are. He has warned me not to listen to your lies and to beware of your laziness and thievery. Believe me boy, if need be I'll beat it out of you. I've promised your uncle to make a miller of you and I will."

That's how I learned that my uncle was not my friend.

ooOOoo

My life changed three years later when Mary, Mr Gashford's niece, came to live at the mill. Mr Gashford introduced his apprentices to her. When he came to me he said, "And this is Jack. Stay away from him, Mary. He's no good. He's a liar and a thief."

I wished I could disappear into thin air when she looked at me. For days I had the impression she watched me. Then quite unexpectedly her uncle offered me a place in the bedroom with the other apprentices. I declined. I told Mr Gashford that I liked my little room in the mill and would prefer to stay there. I didn't tell him I valued my night's rest and doubted I would get any if I shared a room with my colleagues.

The first time I talked to Mary was on my day off some months after she had arrived.

We had one free day each month to spend at home. I used to go to my uncle's until I noticed he didn't care for it very much and after Mr Gashford's revelations neither did I. To spend the day pleasantly I had started to roam the countryside and enjoyed that more than my uncle's company. Food was a bit scarce on my holidays. I saved up some bread beforehand and tried to find some berries or other fruit.

Not far from the mill there was a little woody area that had turned into a bit of a larder for me. I had the feeling it might have been a garden at one time as it abounded with untended fruit trees and bushes full of berries. I was busy picking some when Mary came skipping, a basket on her arm. She saw me before I had time to hide.

"Hello … Jack," she said.

I didn't answer so she said, "That _is_ your name, isn't it?"

"Yes, Miss … hello, Miss," I stammered.

"Why are you here? You have the day off, haven't you? Shouldn't you be at home?"

"Yes … No … I…"

I didn't know what to say at first and then blurted everything out. The loss of my parents, the loss of my inheritance, the coldness of my uncle who didn't want me near even though neither of us had anybody else in the whole wide world. I just couldn't stop talking. Her uncle's distrust of me, the treatment I received from the other apprentices, everything came out in an unstoppable flood. When I finally stopped talking we were sitting next to each other and she had her arm around my shoulder. I looked at her and noticed tears were shining in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Jack," she said. "Shall I talk to my uncle about this? I'm sure he'll listen to me."

"No, Miss. He believes my uncle. He'll tell you that I fed you some sob-story to get your sympathy. I fear it would only make things worse."

"If you think so, Jack. I may drop a hint here and there. Do you want to come and eat with us this evening? There is plenty."

"Thank you, Miss, but I'd better not."

"See you later then, Jack."

"Goodbye, Miss."

As she walked away, she turned round with a big smile on her face.

"By the way, my name is Mary, not Miss," she shouted and ran off home.

Mary must have dropped quite a few hints. On the eve of our day off two months later Mr Gashford said quite casually that he needed one of us to stay.

"I need some help doing some repairs around the place," he said. "Jack, it'll have to be you. Your uncle will easily understand my need while the mothers of your colleagues will not appreciate it if their sons don't come home."

They smirked as they left for home. Little did they know that for me it was the beginning of the happiest period of my life. The repairs were done in less than fifteen minutes. The rest of the day I was really free but Mr Gashford insisted that I stay for the midday meal. It was the first time in months that I had a proper meal on my day off. Afterwards I offered Mary to help with clearing up but she declined. I felt a bit awkward but Mr Gashford started talking to me, asked me how I liked the work and what I hoped to do after my apprenticeship. I told him about the mill I would have and then asked him the questions I'd always wanted to. While we were talking Mary came with drinks and a cake she had baked. Later Mr Gashford told us to go for a walk while he took a nap. When we came back Mary started on the evening meal and asked me to set the table for three. I looked at Mr Gashford but he just asked Mary what was on the menu. So I had the evening meal with Mr Gashford and Mary as well. Of course I didn't call her Mary then but Miss Mary – she thought just Miss was so distant.

From then on I was invited to spend every holiday with Mary and Mr Gashford.

Although I had finally gained Mr Gashford's trust, the relationship with my fellow apprentices remained bad. David was worse than the other two. He was a big fellow and I think that even Joshua and Terrence were a bit afraid of him. They were probably relieved he'd picked me to bully and were happy to help him if it meant he left them alone.

Unfortunately for him Mr Gashford started to check on us at odd intervals, unannounced. I was sure that he also watched us much more than ever before, secretly sometimes. He never told me whether he did or not, but he knew things that had happened when we thought he was away from the mill. Mr Gashford talked a lot to David at that time but I have no idea what they said to each other. David called Mr Gashford an old fool and continued taking life easy, bullying me and the others into doing his work.

The result of this was that a couple of weeks later David's parents arrived at the mill on our day off. Mr Gashford asked them into his office where David was already waiting. The other apprentices were gone but I was there, peeping through a window at the back of the office. I could see David standing between his father and mother and I could hear everything Mr Gashford said. He told David's parents plainly that their son had better look for another place or even better another trade. He explained how David had cheated and how his attitude was disruptive to the teamwork at the mill.

"I'm very sorry this happened and that I didn't notice earlier what your son was up to. Of course I will pay you back most of the schooling fees. Hopefully he'll do better in another trade."

The boy was boxed around the ears by his mother and severely scolded by his father as they walked of the premises.

With David gone the bullying came to an end as well. Without their leader to goad them on Joshua and Terrence didn't seem to be so eager. Probably because we three were more evenly matched if it would come to a fight. And probably they realised Mr Gashford wouldn't automatically choose their side in an argument.

A year and a half later Joshua went. Mr Gashford told me why on the next free day.

"I couldn't believe it when he said he knew enough now. He could have made an excellent miller one day, but this way he'll be mediocre at best. You've all got still a lot to learn. He's overconfident, that's his problem. Shame, he was definitely the most talented." He sighed and added, "I can teach you boys all I know, but I can't keep your feet on the ground if you want to walk with your heads in the clouds."

Terrence, the third and last of my colleagues left the day Mr Gashford praised me for my work. He said he had enough of a place that preferred one boy above the other and that he wanted fair treatment.

"You're always going to favour him because your niece fancies him. Sleeping with the boss' daughter – even an adopted one – has always been the way for some people to get ahead in life," he sneered.

I saw Mary going bright red. When it looked as if Terrence was going to say more, I stopped his foul mouth for him and knocked him out. When he came round again his bags were packed and standing next to him. Mr Gashford told him to go immediately.

"Nobody insults my niece," he said. "And I'll better not hear any rumours about her, because I'll know where they came from."

Terrence left and, as far as I know, hasn't said anything bad about Mr Gashford or his niece.

ooOOoo

With Terrence gone, I was the only apprentice left. It should have been wonderful: just the three of us every day instead of every four weeks but it wasn't. Mary avoided me. She always said, "I've eaten already in the kitchen. I need to do some work and can't sit down with you boys. Enjoy yourselves."

I saw Mr Gashford missed her at the table so I decided to confront her about it. The next time I saw her going into her herb garden I followed her in and cornered her.

"Miss Mary, are you going to let Terrence spoil things between us? I know you don't fancy me but I thought we were friends. Why can't we just continue like before?"

"Let me go, Jack. I have no time for this," she said.

"As you wish, Miss Mary. Could you bring me my food to the mill? Your uncle misses you at mealtimes and if you can't bear to sit at the table with me it is better that I stay away."

Then I went back to work. At lunchtime Mary appeared, not to bring me my meal but to invite me.

"Food's ready Jack. Will you come? I've set the table for three."

She didn't have to ask twice.

Of course things had changed between us. Even though I had said we were just good friends, Terrence's spiteful remark had made me aware of the nature of the 'friendship' I felt for Mary. I had realised my feelings had changed just not how they had changed. As a result I worked harder than ever. One day soon Mr Gashford would tell me I'd learned all he could teach me and then I'd have my own mill, like my uncle had said. I was dreaming about the day that I could ask Mary's hand in marriage and could tell her uncle that I could easily provide for her. Before my apprenticeship had ended, my feelings had betrayed me over and over again. I stammered whenever I said something to Mary, couldn't look her in the face and when our hands accidentally touched it was as if lightning went through my body. I never saw that Mary had the same problems but I think Mr Gashford did. He had fun seeing our embarrassment.

It became worse and worse until one day he burst out laughing and said, "Jack, my boy, Mary, darling, when are you two going to stop messing about. The man in the moon can see you two are in love. It's really funny to see you vainly trying to hide it but, please, stop pretending you're just good friends or I'll die laughing."

Mary looked at her uncle, then at me, squeaked a little "Oh!" and ran in the kitchen.

"Go after her, Jack, and bring her back as your fiancé," Mr Gashford laughed.

I'd been used to doing exactly what Mr Gashford said for the last seven years which meant I stood in Mary's kitchen before I realised it. She seemed busy putting the dishes near the sink ready for the washing up. When I saw her moving the same pots again and again I knew she was just pretending.

"Miss Mary …"

I didn't know what to say. 'You're uncle sent me' is not the best start when you want to ask a girl. Mary had stopped moving the moment I called her name. She just stood there with her back to me. I went up to her, took the plate she was holding out of her hands, gently turned her towards me, and kissed her. For a moment I feared she would draw back and hit me. Then she kissed me as well and put her arms around my neck. The joy I felt was indescribable. Suddenly there was nothing as easy as telling Mary I loved her and asking her to be my wife. Her "Yes!" was a shout of joy.

It took us a while to come back down from the clouds but we did. We discussed our plans for the future and quickly agreed. Afterwards we went back to her uncle hand in hand.

"I'm glad you've got that sorted," was his comment. "Congratulations you two, you look so right together. Have you made any plans yet?"

"Yes, sir, we have," I said. "I want to continue being your apprentice until you say I know enough to run a mill. Then I'll go to my uncle and get the mill he promised me. We'll get married as soon as I can support a family."

"You don't expect me to give you my mill then?" he asked.

"No, sir. That never was my intention. Even less after Terrence's remarks."

"Good. My mill will one day belong to Mary's younger brother. He's staying with his mother's sister now. In three months' time he will be one of my new apprentices. You, Jack, are ready now. You're officially a miller. Now it's up to you. Either you go now and get your own mill or you stay on for three extra months and I'll teach you my best kept secrets."

I stayed the extra months and learned all the tricks that made Mr Gashford the best miller in the area and beyond.

At the end of this last period I had finally finished my apprenticeship and went to my uncle to ask him for the mill he had promised me. We were in his office when I asked him. He looked at me strangely, slightly puzzled I would have said, as if he was surprised that I had grown up so fast. He took some papers out of his safe and handed them to me.

"These are the papers for your mill. They state it is your property, completely paid for. With this I have fulfilled my duty towards you completely. We needn't see each other again."

I looked through the papers while he was talking and saw the name of the mill he had purchased for me.

"The Black Mill at Wessan's Beck? That's the mill you bought for me? That is all that's left of my inheritance?"

"I told you, boy, your father's dealings weren't …"

"Don't you drag my father into this. He was a careful man and would never have risked that much of his money. How did you get the Black Mill? Free with some land you bought?"

"You ungrateful wretch. Go and never set foot in this house again," he shouted.

_This house_ he had said and suddenly I knew. Even though I would never be able to prove it, I knew. This house was not the house he had lived in when we first met. This house was paid for with my money, my inheritance. I told him so and he laughed.

"Why would I deny it? There's no evidence of anything I did and I'll swear I never said this but, yes, you are right. I took it, the lot. Now get lost or I'll have you thrown out."

He was right. There was nothing I could do. I grabbed the papers that made me the owner of the Black Mill and left, back to Mr Gashford and Mary.

I told them what had happened and asked Mary to wait for me.

"It will be longer before we can get married but I will rebuild the Black Mill ruin and I will make a living of it and we will be happy there," I told her.

"I'll wait for you, Jack," Mary said. "However long it takes, I'll wait for you."

Mr Gashford wished me luck but I saw the doubt in his eyes. Then I left for my property, the Black Mill at Wessan's Beck, or what's left of it.

ooOOoo


	5. Chapter 5: Jack and Mary

**Author's Note: Thanks to Jimli for another review and to ajiehuang1997 for following this story.**

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**CHAPTER 5 – Jack and Mary**

"It's even worse than I thought," Jack said. "It has no sails anymore, more than half the wood is rotten and it's infested with rats and mice. I've done nothing but chase the vermin ever since I arrived here."

"They're the least of your problems. I can rid your mill of them, with a bit of effort surely, but very thorough as well. When I'm finished with them they won't come back. No, it's the money that's the problem. You'll need an awful lot of it. But perhaps I can help you there as well," I told him.

"How could you help me get the kind of money I need? A bit of repair won't do it." He sighed again. "It practically needs rebuilding. How am I going to earn that much money?"

"You've got a talking cat. Let's go to the fair and earn some money. On second thought I probably won't be talking but there are loads of tricks I can do. We won't be short of money."

"I've got a talking cat? How can you be my cat? I thought you were nobody's cat. A free cat," said Jack.

"A stray you mean." I shook my head. "I need a place to stay," I admitted. "I need a home. I'm not really cut out for the free life on the road. Besides, I like your face and I think you need a partner with some brains."

At least it made Jack laugh if nothing else.

ooOOoo

Jack and I became friends. We went to every market and fair in the area and just beyond, and became fairly well known. In the evening Jack talked to me about his Mary and I told him about my life – the part I could talk about anyway.

"_You can tell nobody about your life as a human or the curse until it is broken," Mrs Genova had said._

"_What will happen if I let something slip out accidentally?" I had asked._

"_You don't understand, Thomas," she had explained. "You won't be able to tell."_

All that talking to Jack had one great effect: My thought process became more human again: more actively busy rather than instinctively reacting.

After three months we counted our profit. I had somewhat overestimated the earning potential of fairs and markets. Yes, people just loved seeing a cat do tricks, especially the walking and dancing on hind-legs like a human, but although we were earning a good living it would take us years before we had enough money for the repairs. Jack and his girl would be old before they could get married. There had to be another way to get the necessary money.

My mind started dwelling more and more on Jack's thieving uncle. Unfortunately we couldn't steal his money. More trouble than it's worth – especially if you get caught. I wondered about the inheritance Jack's father had left him and its disappearance. If there hadn't been a bad investment then the money was still there, or paperwork, something that might prove Jack should have inherited a small fortune, perhaps prove of his uncle's fiddling the books. Somebody needed to have a good look in the office of Jack's uncle. For Jack to do this himself was out of the question. His uncle wouldn't let him within sight of his office but perhaps I could sneak in, have a good rummage through the papers, and take any proof I found to a magistrate. I could get away with it because as a cat I wouldn't be suspected and as a magical cat I had some advantages like knowing how to read and, most importantly, opposing thumbs. You've no idea what a difference they make. I was hopeless without them but Mrs Genova kindly obliged when I asked her to change my front paws.

While Jack was doing some repairs to the mill with the money we had made at the markets, I had some free time which I spent up a tree, opposite the office of Jack's uncle. Nobody takes any notice of stray cats up trees, except dogs and they can't climb. From my vantage point in the tree I had a superb sight of everything that went on in that office, including all the little routines. Every day the same order of things happened: the clerk arrives and opens the window; fifteen minutes later the window is closed; Jack's uncle arrives at exactly eight o'clock. Sometimes he stays all day in his office, sometimes he leaves but he's always back at five. At six o'clock he leaves for home and the clerk opens the window again for fifteen minutes, before he too leaves.

In the end finding the proof we needed was childishly simple. One evening I jumped through the open window and hid until the clerk left. This gave me all night to look for evidence. In the morning I waited for the clerk to open the window and jumped out again. I didn't find anything the first night, or the second, but after a fortnight I had enough proof to send the sticky-fingered beggar to jail.

I showed my findings to Jack who went straight to his uncle. Confronted with the proof of his wrongdoing and threatened with the arrival of the magistrate, the man crumbled and Jack got most of his inheritance back. Bit by bit the Black Mill at Wessan's Beck came back to life, probably looking better than it had ever done in its entire existence. The first sack of flour went straight to Mr Gashford who admitted with a smile that he had now some serious competition.

ooOOoo

For me this was the start of some easy living. During the repairs I had chased the rats and mice and acquired something of a reputation among them. I must have, anyway. It's the only way to explain why we never saw any of the vermin at the mill for as long as I stayed there, and I stayed quite a while.

Contrary to what I expected I did not dream of Mrs Genova. I figured that as long as she didn't urge me to move on, I could stay with Jack.

Jack and I lived off his inheritance for a bit while his reputation as a miller grew and grew. Finally his income was large enough to marry. It was a beautiful day in May when Jack and Mary got married, Jack feeling noticeably uncomfortable in the black suit he was wearing, Mary looking radiant and elegant in the white, lace-trimmed dress. Their happiness was my happiness. I felt I had contributed considerably to it. The only shadow in their life was the lack of a child.

On the day of their tenth anniversary after a lovely meal we sat together near the open fire. That year May was still quite cool and the fire was appreciated. Suddenly Mary broke our companionable silence.

"Jack, I need to tell you something," Mary said.

I should have left perhaps. What she wanted to say was none of my business but Mary didn't know I was not an ordinary cat. Besides the weather was too damp and windy to send a cat through. Jack didn't seem to mind anyway.

"What do you want to tell me, Mary?" he asked and pulled her closer in his embrace.

"We're going to have a baby," she said. "There's no mistake about it, Jack. I'm really pregnant."

Jack was over the moon. "How long," he asked. "When is it due?"

"November, I'm three month's gone."

From that day Jack treated Mary like a delicate bone china figurine and on a cold and wet day in November, Benjamin was born. Mr Gashford was his proud godfather.

"Jack, my boy," he said, "he is a sturdy little chap. The future of your business is secured."

They left Mary, to drink the baby's health. I stayed in the room with Mary. She looked very tired. I knew better than Jack that her pregnancy had not been easy, something she'd successfully hidden from her husband. The birth hadn't been straightforward either, judging by the way the midwife mumbled, "Men! They think it's all a piece of cake. She's too delicate. Men! They just don't think."

Despite this, Mary recovered and two years later was pregnant again. This time even Jack noticed she had a difficult time. He called the doctor who said that Mary was delicate but otherwise healthy. He did promise to be present at the birth of the baby.

It was a Wednesday at the end of April when Mary came waddling into the mill.

"Jack, get the midwife, it has started," she said.

Then she collapsed on a heap of sacks, overwhelmed by the pain. Jack picked her up and carried her to the house as if she were a feather. Then he ran to the village and warned the midwife and the doctor. Mr Gashford had seen Jack pass and accompanied him back to the mill. When they'd arrived I managed to have a moment alone with Jack.

"I think you should send Benjamin away," I said. "He shouldn't hear his mother cry out in pain and I don't think she can hold on much longer."

Jack nodded and asked Mr Gashford if he could take Benjamin away, which he did. Soon afterwards the midwife and the doctor arrived. Jeremy (named after Mary's father) wasn't born until the following day. According to the midwife he was the biggest baby she had ever seen in her entire career.

The doctor called Jack into the room with Mary. He wanted both of them to hear what he had to say. And yes, I'd snuck in and heard it all as well.

"We were lucky this time," he said, "but I advise you not to try for another baby. The next pregnancy might be fatal. Mary, your body is just too frail. Heed my warning. You've got two healthy sons. Be happy and content with what you have." Then he left.

Shortly after Benjamin's sixth birthday, I saw Mary putting a hand on her belly and smiling that secretive smile that pregnant women can have before they tell anyone they're expecting. Jack had noticed as well.

"Mary, is there something you want to tell me?"

She smiled and said, "You've guessed, haven't you? Yes, we're going to have another baby."

"My god! How is that possible? I've been so careful."

"Aren't you happy Jack? I am. I wanted another baby."

"Have you forgotten what the doctor said last time? It could be dangerous." The worry could clearly be heard in Jack's voice.

"What does that doctor know about women?" she laughed, "I've never felt better, no sickness, no discomfort at all. Everything will be just fine."

It looked like she was right. Nothing happened even though Jack and I kept a constant watch on her. As the date neared we started to relax. Too early. A week before her due-date she became ill. The doctor was called. He was not well pleased.

"I told you it was dangerous," he said to Jack. "Why didn't you listen? I can't guarantee that mother or child will live. Prepare for the worst. I fear your boys will grow up without a mother."

Unfortunately the doctor was right. Mary lived just long enough to see her baby, name it, and bless it, then she died. It was a puny little baby. For a long time we feared that it would follow her. Luckily a farmer's wife nearby offered to nurse it. She'd had a baby the week before and said she had plenty of milk for two. Thanks to her Mary's baby lived, even if it stayed small and puny.

Mary's death had broken something in Jack. He was still as good and conscientious as before and he loved his children, even the youngest, Jackie – named after him just as Mary had wanted. When they were old enough Jack taught them everything he knew. One by one they started to work in the mill, and when all three had reached their father's standard, Jack started to withdraw. Not suddenly but bit by bit so that it was not noticeable until much later.

We often sat together reminiscing about Mary, about the time when we rebuilt the mill, about Mary again, about the children, more about Mary. He just could not forget her.

He was only sixty when he fell ill and took to his bed. He never left it.

"I've had enough, Thomas," he said. "I want to go to Mary, wherever she is."

He called his children, blessed them and said goodbye. Then we saw him sinking away slowly. At the very end he suddenly sat up. He looked far beyond the walls of his room and called Mary's name. His last message was for me.

"I'm going to Mary," he said with a smile on his face. "Thomas, look after Jackie."

Then he fell back, dead. I had lost a dear friend.

ooOOoo


	6. Chapter 6: Jackie and Thomas

**Author's Note:** **I've had such wonderful response to Thomas's story last week. **

**********Yoffi and Jimli: **Thank you ** for the ********regular ********reviews. **  
**Gummybear Studios**:** Thank you for favouriting this story.**  
**Imaginatrix: Thank you for the review, for following and favouriting****.  
Renee Swan****: Thank you for reviewing every chapter and for favouriting.**

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**CHAPTER 6 – Jackie and Thomas**

The cat, I was given the cat? I had worked in the mill just as hard as my brothers and I was given the cat? I could not believe it.

My brothers had started to help father in the mill when they were ten years old; first Benjamin and two years later Jeremy. They had been tall and strong for their age. I was the youngest. From an early age father had taught me everything about the administration for the business. I did the paperwork and dealt with the salesmen and customers but my goal had always been to work with Benjamin and Jeremy. I had celebrated my fifteenth birthday before father had allowed me to help in the mill. It had been hard in the beginning, especially for a scrawny creature like me, but I had wanted to know every aspect of the business, even the hard manual labour. I would never be as strong as my brothers but I had managed to do the work, and with father's guidance my brothers and I had eventually become excellent millers. Our mill was known far and wide for the best and finest flour. I had always thought that's how it was going to be forever. Benjamin, Jeremy and I, working together in the Black Mill at Wessan's Beck

Then father died, after a sudden and short illness. The funeral was attended by just about the whole town. Mr Walters, the village scribe, was the last of the mourners.

He came to us and said, "My sincere condolences. The loss of your father is a loss to the village. He was a good friend and client of mine."

"Thank you, we appreciate it," my eldest brother said.

Instead of going, as we expected, he asked, "Could you spare some time for me tomorrow? Your father made a will and left it in my care. I'd like to come and read it and arrange things according to your father's last wishes."

"A will?" we all said.

None of us knew father had written a will. We all wondered what his last wishes had been.

Next day the scribe came. He sat down on one side of our kitchen table, the three of us on the other side. I offered him a drink but he declined, saying he had no time and wanted to come straight to the point. Then he started reading father's will.

.

"_This is the last will and testament of me, Jack, miller of the Black Mill at Wessan's Beck._

_Over the years I have saved 600 silver pieces. Together with my other possessions they are to be divided among my children according to their needs, in the following way: _

_The mill and 200 silver pieces will go to my first born Benjamin. _

_The horse and cart with 300 silver pieces are to go to my second born, Jeremy. _

_Last but not least, to my youngest child Jackie I leave 100 silver pieces as well as my most prized possession and best friend, our black cat Thomas. Take good care of him, Jackie, and he'll take care of you. _

_The house, which is big enough to house several families, goes to all three of you, providing you will continue working in and for the mill._

_I hope you'll always live and work together in true friendship. My blessings go with you all,_

_Your father, Jack of the Black Mill."_

.

The scribe stopped and looked at our stunned faces.

"I have to go now," he said. "If you need your money, you can come to me and I'll pay you. Goodbye." And he left.

After he'd made sure that the scribe had gone Benjamin stated his intentions.

"The mill is mine. I'm twenty-six now and I intend to call on the blacksmith to ask his daughter Catherine's hand in marriage. She and I already have an understanding and I don't think the smith will refuse me. We will live in the house that belongs to the mill. Anybody who wants to live there, alone or with a family, will have to offer me something useful for the business."

"Brother," said Jeremy, "I hear you and agree. I have the horse and cart and they have always been part of the business. That can continue as before. In exchange I and my wife will live in the house with you and yours. Do you agree?"

"Your wife?" asked Benjamin.

"My wife to be. I've been engaged these three years to Annie, maid at Greenvalley farm. She can work hard and has no family to thwart us in our plans. If _**you**_ don't, we'll be able to live in peace with our families, just like father wanted. What say you?"

"Agreed! Welcome to the business, brother. Black Mill Brothers will become famous in the whole country."

"I've always worked in the business and my cat has kept the mice from eating the grain. Surely there is room in the house for me as well?"

Then, totally unexpected, my brothers turned on me.

"You? What can you do for the mill that either of our wives won't be able to do, and better I'd wager?" Jeremy stated.

Benjamin added, "There's no work here for your cat either. When's the last time you saw a mouse or any other vermin around here?"

"Exactly! That cat just lies about, eats and drinks and never lifts a paw. The only thing that mongrel is fit for is to be turned into a warm fur hat for winter."

"Go, pack your things, take that mangy cat of yours and leave my mill. Beggars like you are no longer welcome here. GO!"

I stood there, paralysed. This was my family? These were my brothers? I couldn't believe it. I expected them to suddenly start laughing and say, "Sorry, Jackie, we're having you on. Of course you can stay. You're family"

It took the finality of Benjamin's harsh 'GO!' to shake me out of my stupor. I ran to my room. Blinded by tears I stuffed what little I had in a sack and tied it up. Before I went down, I wiped my face. I wasn't going to show them I'd been crying.

I went out through the kitchen, grabbing some food on the way, and called the cat. Then with my bag over my shoulder and the cat under my arm I left. Only days ago I had a father and a home; now I had neither.

"Good luck, Jackie. That cat will make your fortune," my brothers laughed and guffawed.

"Go to hell," I mumbled. "Is this the friendship my father talked about? Go to hell, my brothers."

ooOOoo

Mongrel? How dare he? I can trace my family back farther than he can _and_ my father was a Count. Mangy cat? Me? With my silky black coat and fine whiskers? I hadn't been mangy since I became Jack's cat. Useless am I? You haven't seen a mouse or any vermin in ages? How do you think that is possible? You'll see what'll happen now. The cat is away and the mice will play and play and play.

I could forgive them what they'd said about me though. What angered me more was the way they had treated Jackie. How could Benjamin and Jeremy act like that? They were the sons of Jack and Mary but they'd behaved more like sons of Jack's uncle. I _had_ heard them talk about Jackie and never favourably. Jackie was too weak; Jackie didn't work hard enough; Jackie was their father's favourite. They had absolutely no idea what Jackie did around the house when they were out with their friends in the weekends.

Still, despite what I'd heard them say, I couldn't believe that they were capable of throwing Jackie out. But they had and now Jackie and I faced an uncertain future.

I stayed stuck under Jackie's arm quietly until it became uncomfortable. We'd left the mill well behind us when I decided it was time to reveal to Jackie what nobody but Jack had ever known.

"Excuse me, Jackie," I said. "I'm perfectly able to walk on my own four legs, or even two."

Jackie dropped me, as if I had caught fire. As gracefully as possible, considering the suddenness and shortness of the fall, I landed on my paws … nearly.

"Thank you," I said. "Have you any idea where you are going?"

Jackie just stared at me, stunned. I had expected the reaction, but still.

"Did you really think your father would have called me his most prized possession if I had been just any cat? Even if I'd been a show winning Persian, I wouldn't quite merit such high praise."

"Y…y…you talk! That … that's impossible. Cats don't talk."

"Well I do. I'm not just a run of the mill cat. Though I did have the run of the mill when your father first moved in. Vermin infested it was."

"But what could you do for me? I'm nearly twenty and you were our cat for as long as I can remember. You must be twenty at least, very old for a cat."

"Yes, yes, yes, very old for an ordinary cat. But I'm not ordinary. I've lived a long time and am likely to live a long time yet. I tell you, you'll be sitting on a sofa in your old age, looking at me playing with your grandchildren. Now, your father wanted a thriving mill and I helped him get a thriving mill. What do you want?"

Jackie sat down next to me.

"I don't know. I've never had to think about it. I always thought I would live in the mill with my family."

"I could get you a new mill."

"I can't work one on my own."

"True."

We sat together for a while. Jackie probably thinking about what had happened these last few days; I was trying to work out what future would be best for Jackie. Eventually it was time to find a place for the night. Halfway to the village we found a sizable shed nearly completely filled with hay for the winter. It was dry and warm and there was enough space left for us. We decided to stay the night.

I couldn't sleep. All night long I kept wondering what we could do, how I could help Jackie. Then I had a crazy idea, but if I worked out the details and planned it meticulously it could come off, and Jackie would have more money than Benjamin and Jeremy could ever dream of, and then some.

Next morning I waited until we'd had some breakfast. At least Jackie had been clever enough to pack some bread and cheese.

Then I said, "Jackie, I want you to get the money your father left for you at the scribe. With these 100 silver pieces I want you to buy me a red velvet hat, trimmed with gold braid and a white ostrich feather. I'll also need a red velvet cape, equally trimmed with gold and a leather knapsack to wear over my shoulder. Last, but by no means least, I'll need a pair of red leather boots, made from the finest leather."

Jackie laughed.

"Is that all? Why would a cat need such finery and how am I going to pay for that? I don't think 100 silver pieces will cover the cost."

"Why I need these is my business and your future. Go to the tailor for the cape and hat – his wife is an excellent milliner – and ask how much it would cost. Go to the shoemaker – he also makes other leather goods – and get a price for the knapsack and boots. Then we'll arrange something."

**ooOOoo**

I couldn't believe I was taking orders from a cat. But I did. We went to the shoemaker first.

"I want red leather boots and a knapsack in the finest leather … for my cat Thomas,"

I said. "Can you do it, and how much would it cost?"

For a moment he looked at me open-mouthed, dumbfounded.

"Why would you want these things for a cat?" he asked. "That's not normal."

"To let him dance at the fairs to make money. What does it matter? Can you do it?"

"Yes, for 75 silver pieces. But I don't think your brothers will like it that you spend money on such nonsense."

I thanked him and went to the tailor and his wife. There I asked what it would cost to make a hat and cape for my cat. The tailor must have had strange requests before because he answered straight away.

"What kind of material do you want it made in?"

"Red velvet with gold trimming and a white ostrich feather for the hat."

The tailor looked at his wife, whispered something to her. She whispered something back, then he nodded and turned to me.

"We can do it for 75 silver pieces. No less."

"I'll give you 50 and do any work you may want doing. Final offer."

He looked at me long and hard. I saw his mind working, wondering how much I wanted these things and how likely I was to change my mind about the price.

He must have thought he wouldn't get more out of me because he eventually said, "Winter is coming on and we have a load of wood that needs chopping. Our workplace needs to be warm in winter; we can't work with cold hands. Chop all the wood and we'll do it for 50 silver pieces."

He showed me the stack of logs he wanted me to turn into firewood and I disappointed him by accepting. I might look puny and frail, but I'm stronger than I look.

Back to the shoemaker to make him a similar offer.

"Make me the things I asked for. You'll get 50 silver pieces. For the rest: is there some work you want doing?"

"Jackie, go home," he said. "You haven't got the money and your brothers won't want to pay for this."

My brothers! I resented this man who insinuated, for the second time, that I could not act without them. I leaned forward putting my hands on his last and brought my face close to his.

"I have no home with my brothers anymore. The money I offer you is mine. Will you make what I ask or shall I tell everyone the master shoemaker was incapable of this simple task."

In my eyes he must have seen the anger I felt. That I remained icily calm under it unsettled the man.

"S…sure, if you … if you can rid my house and … and warehouse of … of the mice that keep nibbling my … my leather, I'll do it for … for 50 silver pieces."

"Deal," I said. "Thomas, this is your job."

Then I left to chop the wood for the tailor and his wife.

**ooOOoo**


	7. Chapter 7: Jackie and Joe

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. It needed some changes, and getting it right took me longer than I thought it would. I hope the chapter was worth waiting for.**

**As always, thank you to reviewers yoffi, The Imaginatrix, Gummybear Studios, and Jimli. Welcome to new follower ****TheAmaryllisBlossom and thanks for the review and for favoriting.  
**

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**CHAPTER 7 – Jackie and Joe**

I was impressed. Jackie had guts. The way my business was dealt with was exemplary. My job was not too difficult. Finding the mice in the warehouse could have been done by a kitten. I gave them the choice: to leave the shoemaker's place forever or have me, Thomas, previously cat to the miller of Black Mill, to deal with. Apparently they knew my reputation. A flood of mice ran away from the shoemaker's place. I heard his wife scream as they ran through her kitchen, out to safety.

Jackie had more difficulties. It was a big load of wood that needed chopping but it got done in less than a week and my fineries were made ready.

I looked quite the gentleman in my boots, cape and hat. While I was admiring myself from all sides Jackie didn't look too happy.

"What now? You've got the things you wanted. I haven't got any money anymore. Winter is coming and I have nowhere to go."

That was true. Mr Gashford would have taken Jackie in immediately. He would also have given Benjamin and Jeremy a severe telling off, but Mr Gashford had died two years before Jack, just days after his eighty-fourth birthday. Mary's brother – Jackie's uncle David – who now ran the Gashford mill had a large family. He might let Jackie stay for a short time, but he didn't really need an extra pair of hands in the mill.

It was time to get Jackie to the best place for making a fortune. I hadn't any fixed plans yet, but I was absolutely certain that an opportunity would arise in due time.

"Go to the capital," I told Jackie. "Find a job at the palace. They always need people for the kitchen. Put on a dress, cover your hair with a scarf or so and I'm sure they'll take you on. You'll look quite sweet in a dress."

"Put on a dress? I can count the times I've worn a dress on one hand, and still have fingers left. Why would I start wearing one now?"

"Jacqueline, miller's daughter, your mother was the finest looking woman I've ever seen. You could look a lot like her if you tried. You no longer have to compete with your brothers; you don't have to show that you're strong and can work hard. You've proven that more than once. It's time to start being yourself."

**ooOOoo**

Perhaps Thomas was right. Perhaps that's why I hadn't cut my hair in months. Perhaps at twenty I didn't want to be 'one of the boys' anymore. But I wasn't sure I wanted to be 'one of the girls' instead. I wasn't sure I wanted to disappear in another group; I wanted to be me, an individual. Fact was that I had no choice. I had no money and I needed a place that would keep me warm this winter. So again I took orders from a cat.

We were lucky to find a ride in the back of a merchant's cart. Thomas and I slept on some sacks among the goods, acting as guards, while the owner stayed in a comfortable inn, sleeping in an equally comfortable bed. In exchange for looking after his goods, he took us all the way to the capital city.

There I put on the only dress I had. It dated from a cousin's wedding five years earlier and luckily I hadn't grown since, upward or sideways. I covered my hair with a scarf – it was still too short not to cause disapproval – and presented myself at the palace kitchen. Thomas didn't want to come with me. He said that it didn't suit his plans to be seen at the palace. I still had no idea what his plans were and seriously doubted he had any.

It wasn't as easy to get a job as either Thomas or I had thought. I saw doubt in the housekeeper's eyes when she looked at me.

"Give me any task you want doing, however hard. If I can do it, you take me on. If not, I'll go," I suggested.

I was surprised at how tough and self-assured I had become since my brothers had thrown me out.

"Let's see how you deal with the dishes. We're a bit shorthanded and they haven't been done for two days. Go ahead, tackle those. When they're done, I'll give you something else to do. At the end of the day I'll know if you come up to our standards. If you do, you'll have a job."

I thanked the woman and started immediately. With all the work in the mill, doing dishes had been a Sunday job for me. Of course, two days at a palace produced more dishes than a week in a mill, but two days doesn't ingrain the muck as much as a week. Furthermore, warm water came out of a tap here. I didn't have to warm up fresh water all the time. Another advantage was the amount of dry towels. No need to dry any in between.

Once the dishes were washed and dried, I put everything in its place with the help of the other girls. To my relief they were very friendly and glad to help. Then I went to see the housekeeper and told her I'd done the job she'd given me. She examined everything carefully to see how well I had done my work. I couldn't say whether she was satisfied or not. Her stern expression never changed.

Next I had to fill in for the little scullery maid who had the day off to go to her sister's wedding. This time it was cook who checked on my progress and standard of work. Until late in the evening I was sent from chore to chore, but I didn't mind. It meant I could show them what I was capable of. The more I did the more certain I became that I would have work and a place to stay for the winter.

At the end of the day the housekeeper welcomed me to the ranks of the kitchen staff and showed me the room I would share with two of the other girls. They were nice girls but real chatterboxes. They talked endlessly about their young men and the clothes they would wear next time they were going out. I doubt they ever noticed how quiet I was. This was all new to me. I'd never had anyone to talk to about girly things. I rather enjoyed listening to them, even if I never contributed to the conversation.

I didn't really have a particular task in the kitchen, but just had to jump in where help was needed. This meant that apart from doing dishes, I cleaned the kitchen, I gutted the fish, I plucked the fowl, and I helped with cleaning and peeling vegetables. Eventually I was also asked to help with the preparation of the food.

When the great midwinter feast was planned the kitchen loaned me to the general household staff for a week to help them with the guest rooms. These needed a thorough cleaning and airing. While that was going on all the bedding was washed, dried and ironed.

Then it was time to start preparations in the kitchen. So much needed doing, not just for the feast but for the days leading up to it when the guests arrived. The amount of food needed increased day by day. Getting everything ready for the feast _and _keeping the guests happy until then was hard work, but nowhere near as hard as trying to keep up with my brothers at the mill had been.

The midwinter feast was a triumph for cook and for the housekeeper. The two women were invited to the dining room where they were toasted by the whole assembly who had nothing but praise for the food and the efficiency of the staff. When they returned to our dining room, cook's eyes were teary and the housekeeper was a little less stern. They thanked us, their staff, for a job well done.

The day after the feast from just after breakfast, as soon as the guests had all gone, most of the staff had the day off. As I didn't have any family I could go to, I had volunteered to do the dishes, sort out a lunch of cold meats and salads for the royal family and the courtiers, as well as warm up the leftovers for the evening meal.

I started on the dishes – a rather larger amount than usual – immediately after I'd had my breakfast. I was singing while drying the first batch when I heard somebody come into the kitchen. All the kitchen staff had gone home by then. That's why I wondered who the unexpected visitor could be.

"Hello? I can hear singing so I know there's someone here. Is it at all possible to get a coffee?" a male voice called out.

I came from behind the screen that divided the washing up area from the rest of the kitchen. In the middle of the kitchen stood a man I'd never seen before. The fact that he didn't wear a uniform gave me an idea what his function at the palace might be.

"I see administration didn't get the day off. Busy sending thank-you-notes to yesterday's guests?" I asked.

He looked me up and down.

"Something like that. Is it possible to get a coffee?"

I threw the kitchen towel at him.

"Straight away. Just dry some dishes meanwhile. But don't break any."

While I made the coffee I heard a lot of rattling but thankfully no sound of breakage. I poured two cups of coffee – I was ready for one too – and called him.

"Hey, what's-your-name, coffee is ready. Milk? Sugar? How many?"

He was there in a flash.

"No milk no sugar I didn't break anything my name is Joe just Joe."

"Don't forget to breathe." I laughed.

"I just wanted to give you all the necessary information." He laughed as well. "What shall I call you?"

"I'm Jackie."

I didn't give him my full name. Why should I? Nobody had ever used it except Thomas, once.

When we'd finished the coffee, he got up to go.

"Thanks for the coffee."

At the kitchen door he turned around.

"By the way, have you got any time off, like the rest of the staff."

"Today after lunch, every fourth Sunday and every Monday morning."

"Can I pick you up here, after lunch then?"

"Why?"

"To go for a walk in the garden, chat a bit, no more than that."

"Come straight after lunch and you can help me with the dishes. You're a good dryer of dishes."

He laughed again, a lovely deep, rumbling laugh.

"I'll bear that in mind if I need a new job. Till after lunch then," he promised and then he left.

For the first time in my life I felt like a girl. No, a woman.

'_Calm down, calm down, Jackie. You don't know him'_ I kept thinking. I would keep my feelings in check. Be a friend and nothing more. I knew I could do it. I only had to think of my brothers to know men could be treacherous. Then again, not all men were like that. I had to find the balance between being too naive and too distrusting.

I hadn't even finished washing the glasses from lunchtime when he arrived. Without a word he picked up a towel and started drying. I began to sing and he joined in. It's amazing how quickly dishes get done when you're not alone.

Afterwards we went for a walk in the royal park. It was cold and crisp but sunny, a lovely winter's day for a walk. The park was quite large. It had lakes joined by a little stream with bridges across it. There was an avenue of linden trees for cool walks in summer. Now the leafless trees looked black against the blue sky. The rock garden up on a slope at the back of the palace had a natural source that fed a small waterfall.

Joe pointed all this out to me. For someone who worked in administration, he knew a lot about the garden. I mentioned this to him.

"Gardening is my hobby," he said. "And I have permission to help in the park. It's all a bit bare now. I'll have to show you the place when the flowers are blooming."

"I'd love that."

What I loved even more was that Joe clearly planned to see me again. Unfortunately, this walk had come to an end. I had to go back to take care of dinner.

When I told him he asked, "Alone?"

"Warming up a few dishes is not that bad," I answered.

He came into the kitchen with me and even helped me set up the warm buffet in the dining room.

After that he said, "I have to go now," and away he went.

I thought this strangely sudden and didn't expect to see him again, but the following Monday when I left the kitchen after breakfast he was waiting for me. I was walking down the drive to the front gate when he came from behind a tree in the park.

"I believe we have a date," he said.

I smiled. "I believe we do," I answered.

As soon as we were out of the gate, Joe turned right into an overgrown path that skirted the castle gardens. After a while, when we were out of sight of the road, the path suddenly changed. It was well-maintained and ideal for a walk. Still further we came to a door in the wall of the castle park where the path split in two. To the right it kept following the wall, the left fork went into the wood, and that's the way we went.

It was quite gloomy among the trees that early in the morning with a cloudy sky.

"I think we'll get snow today," Joe said. "The first this winter. Do you like snow, Jackie?"

"I do. I like to hear it crunch under my feet as I walk. And it seems to muffle sounds, makes me feel as if I'm out of the world, away from trouble."

"That sounds very romantic."

"I suppose it does, but I'm well aware of its downside, you know. I may be a romantic but that doesn't mean I walk around with my eyes closed."

The words had barely left my mouth when I tripped over a tree root and fell, luckily without hurting myself. Joe helped me to get up.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

When he was convinced I had no injury whatever, not even a minor bruise, he gave me a big smile and said, "Good thing you weren't walking around with your eyes closed."

We both laughed like idiots.

That first walk through the wood with Joe was just wonderful, especially because there was no awkwardness between us. What we had was a comfortable companionship.

We'd been walking a fairly long time when I asked Joe, "Don't we have to turn back? I'm expected at midday."

"We'll be back in time. The path makes a loop through the forest. We're not too far from the palace wall."

Not long after I saw the wall through the trees. It was still a fair while to go before we joined the path next to the wall. Shortly after we arrived at the door in the palace wall.

"You'll find your way to the main gate from here, won't you?" Joe asked.

I nodded, somewhat confused.

"I'm going through this door, across the park," he explained.

"You don't want to be seen with me. Are you ashamed because I'm a kitchen maid?"

"Of course not, Jackie. I just want to take this slowly, and surely you know we would be teased continually if anybody knew we were going out together, even if we're just friends."

He was right of course. Even in the few months I'd been working at the palace I had noticed this. And even if it wasn't done in malice, it could become a bit much. A young colleague and the footman who was her boyfriend had been the butt of so many jokes that they had nearly stopped seeing each other. Surprisingly it had been the stern housekeeper who had put a stop to the pestering.

"I don't mind a bit of banter," she had said. "But I won't have bullying. This stops now! Is that understood?"

After that the teasing had ended, and the young couple would no doubt get married before long.

So, when Joe then asked me, "Will you meet me here next Monday?" I of course agreed.

After that we spent every Monday morning together and on my Sundays off we went for long walks even if the weather wasn't always fantastic. We met in a different place every time, and went to out-of-the-way spots where we wouldn't meet people who knew us.

Joe and I became good friends. When spring arrived and flowers started to appear again, he pointed them out to me and called them by name. I didn't know any.

"Strange," he said the first time this happened. "Normally girls know a lot about flowers. More than men, generally."

"I don't. I didn't really have a … conventional upbringing for a girl."

He looked at me quizzically, but I didn't offer any explanation. I didn't want to talk about my brothers' treatment of me, their only sister.

Family was the only thing Joe and I never talked about. No subject was taboo, except that. It was like an unspoken agreement between us. After all, our families had nothing to do with our friendship.

As summer approached friendship wasn't enough anymore. I started to wish for a closer relationship. My feelings for Joe had changed. I couldn't imagine anyone I'd rather be with. Whether Joe felt the same or not, I couldn't say. When he smiled at me, my heart would soar sky-high, sure that he loved me too. There were times when I thought he would take me in his arms; times that it seemed as if he wanted to tell me something. He'd look at me with sadness and longing in his eyes, then he'd turn away and it would be as if that moment had never happened. I didn't know what to think, what to do.

Then, on my first free Sunday of summer, he took me to all our favourite places. In the evening we were back in the wood behind the palace near the door in the wall. When he said goodbye to me I heard something in his voice that wasn't right.

"What's the matter, Joe? What's wrong? Don't deny it, I know something is wrong."

"I … the prince has to go abroad … to meet a prospective bride. I … I have to go too."

"I'll still be here when you come back. You're not gone forever."

"No."

It was no more than a whisper. Then he took my hands in his, pulled me closer, and gently kissed me on the lips.

"Goodbye, my love," he said. Then he opened the door to the palace garden and was gone.

I stood there, frozen to the spot, a million feelings churning inside of me. All of a sudden I knew. The thought pierced me like a knife. This is not 'goodbye see you next time'; this is 'farewell for ever'.

I ran after him into the garden and cried out his name, "Joe!"

He was gone and I was alone. More alone than ever because I didn't even have my cat anymore. I hadn't seen Thomas since I'd arrived at the palace.

**ooOOoo**

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**I promised there would be twists in this story.**


	8. Chapter 8: Puss-in-boots

**Author's Note: Thanks to reviewers Yoffi, The Imaginatrix, Jimli, TheAmaryllisBlossom, and ella plain and simple. I'm glad you liked the twist in the story. Also thank you to LunaPadma for favouriting the story.  
**

* * *

**CHAPTER 8 – Puss-in-boots**

Summer was more than halfway gone when I decided it was time to put my plan for Jackie's happiness into action. I'd kept away from her since we'd arrived at the palace but I hadn't been idle.

People generally don't know one cat from another unless he's dressed in red boots and cape, so I hid my finery. I investigated the city and surrounding area and eventually the palace. I found out a lot more than anyone wanted to be known. Most important of all, a plan had taken shape in my head. Jackie's brothers would be like paupers compared to her, even with a thriving mill. The plan was utter madness but I was absolutely sure it would succeed. I'm afraid I can't blame all that arrogance on the fact that I was a cat.

On my rambles in the country around the capital I'd found a wonderful little river, teeming with trout. I knew from spying in the palace that these were King James' favourite fish. Part one of my plan was to offer two of these trout to his majesty.

Over the years I'd become fairly skilled at catching fish. I waited patiently by the edge of the river until the trout I wanted came close. Then, with one swipe of my claws I had it. Shortly after I caught the second one in the same way. I tucked the two splendid trout, carefully wrapped in Water Lilly leaves in my knapsack.

For the first time in months I dressed up again. With the trout in my knapsack I raced to the palace, so fast that the two fish were still perfectly fresh when I arrived.

Getting into the palace was really easy. People are confused when they see a cat dressed in boots, cape and hat, walking on its hind legs. That's why nobody tried to stop me. Without problems I reached the king's great hall where he received visitors. There he was with his daughter Johanna.

Before either of them could recover from their surprise I bowed deeply and said, "Your Exalted Majesty, Your Royal Highness Princess Johanna, I bring you a present from my mistress the Duchess of Millonbeck. Two fresh trout caught in her river."

The king looked at the two fish I showed and called someone to take them to the kitchen to prepare.

I knew my plan worked when he started to question me.

"You're a talking cat? A real talking cat? Not a man in costume?"

"Yes, Sire, I'm a real talking cat, faithful servant to my mistress the Duchess of Millonbeck."

"A talking cat as a servant. That's unusual."

"Yes Sire. I believe I'm the only talking cat in service, Sire."

"Did you say you were with the Duchess of Millonbeck?" he queried, "I've never heard the name."

"She has only recently moved into the area, Sire."

"Is she young, your mistress?"

"Yes, Sire. She was twenty just before winter came. She is also rich and would love to share her wealth and castle with a husband, but so far hasn't seen the right man."

"Interesting," said the king.

Before he could ask more I said my goodbyes and left. Good thing the king didn't know my mistress was probably cleaning his fish.

.

Two weeks later I returned to the castle with a big hamper of fruit: peaches and nectarines, raspberries, blackberries and even the first tart little apples of the season. The crowning glory of the hamper was a beautiful pineapple. Picking the fruit had been time consuming, but getting the pineapple had been tricky as well.

The fruit grew in a walled garden of a large farm. In one corner, hidden behind a shed, the wall was in bad repair, and I could wriggle through the hole that had appeared in a particularly rotten part. One evening, when the garden was totally abandoned, I filled the basket that was hidden outside the garden, near the gap in the wall. I was taking a few more apples to my basket when I happened to look in the greenhouse and saw the pineapples. I had to have a couple. I entered the greenhouse, selected the biggest and best and carried it to my hoard.

I was on my way to get a second one when I heard voices. Some people had come into the garden, had found the greenhouse open, and of course noticed the biggest pineapple was gone. They talked about getting the dogs to try and find the thief. I feared it would be like Max all over again, so I slunk out of the garden, a shadow among shadows. True, the fruit wasn't paid for, but just like the river with the trout, the farm would belong to Jackie as soon as my plans for her future had come to fruition.

When I reached the palace and walked past the guards they didn't even blink. Obviously the king had given orders to let me through. When I had reached the doors of the great hall, a servant called me.

"Sir Cat, please follow me. His majesty is in his private quarters."

I did as asked and soon was let into a lovely private parlour where the king and his beautiful daughter were having an afternoon drink.

"Your Majesty, dear princess Johanna, receive these fruits from the estate of my mistress the Duchess of Millonbeck," I said. "She hopes that you enjoyed the trout and that you will enjoy these fruits too."

"Thank your mistress from me and my daughter," the king said.

"Thank you, I will, Sire. Goodbye."

Breaking every code of etiquette, I was gone before he could ask any more, leaving King James and his daughter to wonder about the mysterious Duchess.

.

For the third part of my plan I caught a brace of pheasant. They were so easy to catch. Set a trap, put some food inside, and wait. They don't call them birdbrains for nothing.

With the pheasants in my bag I walked straight to the private room of the royal family. A servant opened the door for me without hesitation.

I bowed in front of the king and said, "Your Majesty, fair Johanna, please receive this gift from my mistress the Duchess of Millonbeck."

Immediately the king asked, "Where does she live, your mistress? Nobody seems to know."

'To the East, Sire, on the old road that goes through the forest."

The king went pale.

"That's wizard country," he said. "A dangerous place where a wizard torments the people. How can she live there?'

"There's no wizard as far as I know, Sire. And my mistress is definitely no witch. I have worked for one, long ago, so I would know."

"I didn't know the wizard had gone. All the better. Thank your mistress for this fine gift," said the king, "and tell her we hope to see her soon."

I bowed again and left the room. The servant had gone, so I stayed listening at the door and heard what the king said.

"Let's go for a drive on Sunday. We could visit this Duchess; surprise her with our royal presence. I think it's time we met her."

I knew enough.

.

I had to prepare Jackie, and fully expected this to be the difficult part of my plan.

At the end of the day Jackie always went for a short walk before retiring for the night, just to get some fresh air. I was waiting for her when she came out of the kitchen.

"Hello, Jackie." I said. "I need to talk to you."

I had startled her and her annoyance was audible when she said, "Thomas! Where in heaven's name have you been?"

"I've been planning your future, Jackie. I need you to do something and it's important we get this right."

"What? You've been away for nearly a year and now I have to jump because you need me? I have a job, responsibilities. I can't just leave everything because you tell me to."

She was angry, no doubt about that.

I told her, "I know I have been away for a long time, Jackie, but it was in your interest. Remember? That's what I said when we came here."

She finally calmed down.

"I was worried about you, Thomas. I imagined all sorts of things that could have happened."

I didn't point out she didn't look too worried when I saw her walking with Joe. I needed her to cooperate with my plans which – to be honest – seemed farfetched and crazy, even to me.

"Are you free this Sunday? Otherwise you need to swap with a colleague. It is of the utmost importance that you have the day off."

"It _is_ my free day next Sunday. Why is that so important?" she asked.

"I need you to come to the lake on the old East road next Sunday, and I need you to do exactly what I tell you to do. Your future happiness depends on it. Will you do that for me?"

"Yes, why not? It will be a nice walk to the lake."

"You'll have to promise me that, when we're there, you'll do exactly what I tell you to do, without asking questions, without complaining, without hesitation. Will you promise?"

To my relief she gave me her word that she would do what I asked. She didn't even ask me what exactly I had planned. Perhaps it was her way of apologising for being angry.

.

On the Sunday we met at the appointed place. It was a lovely day, not just warm but hot; hotter than any day we'd had all summer. It was early autumn but the sort of autumn when the sun doesn't want to give up, extending the summer with a few weeks of glorious weather.

First I asked Jackie if she would keep her promise and follow my instructions to the letter. She answered rather reluctantly that she would. Then I told her to get completely undressed and go swim in the lake. She looked at me as if she questioned my sanity but at least she obeyed.

"Could you turn around while I get undressed?" she asked.

I could have told Jackie that I saw her as a sister. I could have told her, her body was of no interest to me. But this was no time to start arguing about details and I must admit it felt good that she saw me as a man, so I turned around immediately. When I heard the splash of the water I turned back.

"Swim around until they come. And don't forget your name is Jacqueline," I instructed while I picked up Jackie's clothes.

Jackie was not impressed.

"Until who comes? Someone to take me to the madhouse? This water is freezing. And why for heaven's sake would I forget my name? And what are you doing with my clothes?"

There was a note of panic in Jackie's voice when she saw me take her clothes to the other side of the road and stuff them under the brambles there, as deep as they would go. Then I heard a coach approaching. It was the king's coach as I had expected.

I ran towards it, shouting, "Help, help, thieves, thieves, help."

As soon as the coachman saw me, he reined in the horses and stopped the vehicle.

The king looked out of the window and asked, "What is the matter?"

"Your Majesty," I said, "my mistress the Duchess of Millonbeck is in such distress. After a long hot ride, she stopped here to freshen up in this cool lake. Thieves came and took all her possessions, clothes, horse, the lot. And I, the only servant to accompany her, could do nothing to stop them."

"Let her come out of the water, we'll take her home," King James offered.

"Sire, … hm … there's …. hm … there's the small matter of clothes. She … she can't come out of the water as she is."

Sweet, clever Johanna immediately understood the problem. She was out of the coach as fast as lightning. First she instructed a servant to take a horse and get some of her clothes for the Duchess. Then she went to the lake and held up her cloak for Jackie to come out of the water. She wrapped it around my mistress while they waited for the servant to come back with the clothes.

"I'll run ahead to the castle," I said, "and get things ready for the return of my mistress."

.

I ran as fast as I could along the road and didn't stop until I was in the forest and saw some wood-cutters working. They did not look happy.

"Who does this wood belong to, and why are you working on a Sunday," I asked.

"This wood belongs to the wizard, and if we don't continue working he'll change us into some animal."

"Wrong, my friends, it now belongs to your mistress, the Duchess of Millonbeck and you only work on a Sunday because you want to finish a job you had started. Besides, you'll get paid extra for working today. Remember that when you're asked."

"We will, Sir," the wood-cutters said.

They looked happier already.

.

On I ran until I reached a place where some beautiful fields of ripe corn stretched out on both sides of the road. In one of the fields people were busy harvesting. They looked hot, thirsty and totally miserable.

'Who do these fields belong to, and why are you working on a Sunday," I asked.

"These fields belong to the wizard, and if we don't continue working he'll change us into some animal," someone answered.

"Wrong, my friends, it now belongs to your mistress, the Duchess of Millonbeck and you only work on a Sunday because you want the corn inside before the nice weather breaks. And of course there's the extra pay for working today. Remember that when you're asked."

"We will, Sir," the farm workers said.

"Good. And send someone to get something to drink. You all look as if you need it," I told them before continuing my route.

I ran a good while further until I came to the drawbridge of a castle. It was dark, forbidding building. More like a citadel than the fairy castle I wanted for Jackie but I had to take what I could get, so I went to the men guarding the entrance.

"Who does this castle belong to, and why do you look so glum on this fine day," I asked.

"This castle belongs to the wizard and now you know why we look glum."

"The wizard! Just the man I want to see," I said and entered. The guard didn't stop me. What can a cat – even a talking one – do to a wizard?

It took me no time at all to find him. I just had to follow the stink. I entered the room where he was just about to dine and greeted him.

"Good day to you, Sir. I have travelled from my distant homeland, tempted here by your reputation. Is it true that you can change yourself into any animal you want to?"

"It is, and it is also true that I don't like to be disturbed when eating. It is also true I could turn you into a spring roll and have you as an appetiser. Or I could turn you into a spotted dick and have you for dessert," he growled

"Quite," I said feeling slightly uncomfortable. "I can see that you could easily change me or anybody else or even anything else into whatever you fancy. But changing yourself is surely more difficult. I understand that it takes a long preparation to do that. It's not something you can do with a click of your fingers. People always exaggerate things."

"Exaggerate? Exaggerate? Look at this."

Then he actually clicked his fingers and there stood a lion. The biggest beast you can imagine. It was nearly as big as an elephant.

"What do you think of this," the beast roared.

I had never reached the top of a wardrobe as quickly as I did that day. I was shaking all over until the wizard changed back and laughed.

"Well, little cat, can I do it or what? So which do you prefer, spring roll or spotted dick?"

I ignored the question.

"Yes, yes, I can see that you could change yourself into a big beast like that. You are a big man and a great wizard. But what about putting all that greatness into something small? I mean really small. A mouse for instance."

"Hah," the wizard scoffed, and instantly changed himself into a mouse.

Jumping down from the wardrobe and catching the mouse was done in the blink of an eye. I had killed it before it had even thought of changing back. Then I ate it.

As soon as the last bit of the mouse's tale had gone down, the whole castle changed. The grey walls became cream coloured. The heavy guard towers turned into elegant turrets. The narrow windows extended. Pastel frames surrounded them and window boxes filled with flowers decorated them.

I was delighted to see it really was a fairy castle, changed by the wizard's dark thoughts and spells. Everything he had enchanted changed back to its original shape. Dead dried up sticks changed back into bushes and trees. The dusty garden with petrified plants became like a paradise. Some of the pebbles strewn about rose up in the air and were birds again, filling the place with their happy singing and twittering. Inside the castle grandfather clocks, coat stands and statues changed back into people.

There was a lot of confusion. Order needed to be restored before the arrival of King James. In a corner of the courtyard a large block of granite had turned back into the original bear fountain. I clambered up and stood on top of the bear. One person saw me and stopped, another one joined him. All I had to do was to wait until the assembly was complete, and they were all looking up at me wondering what a cat dressed in red was doing there.

When I had everyone's attention I told them that the wizard was dead. The cheers were deafening.

I waited for the noise to go down somewhat and said, "Your new mistress, the Duchess of Millonbeck is on her way here, together with King James and his daughter, Princess Johanna. They will soon be here and I would like you to get the place ready to receive the duchess and her guests."

Everybody started running all over the place; I was amazed they didn't collide. By the time I heard the wheels of the coach trundle across the cobles of the courtyard, against all odds the castle was ready to receive its new mistress, Jacqueline, Duchess of Millonbeck.

**ooOOoo**


End file.
